


Confused Kittens and Where to Find Them

by Lachie



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Everybody Lives, Gen, Hijinks, Time Travel/Alternate Universe, Wash Is A Confused Cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:23:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lachie/pseuds/Lachie
Summary: All teams should get their happy endings, and a retirement community of Reds, Blues, North, York… just THINK about the kind of sheer CHAOS. Grif would never be bored ever again G. Feel free to use if the fancy strikes you - there are too few Everybody Lives fics out there ATM G.Fic Prompt: Freelancer was working on some weird shit, and who KNOWS what besides a time machine the drill was (Season 15). Its also the case that the bases were always being monitored, and the Director may have NOTICED the sudden blue glowy hole in reality and decided to investigate (or, something the freelancers were working on blows up, who knows).





	Confused Kittens and Where to Find Them

They find Wash first, perched on a rickety beach chair in full armor with a battered copy of one of those old mystery novels York snuck into the dorms when he thought no one was looking. Alpha team had been prepared for almost any reaction – all their AIs were willing to say was that it looked like Carolina and the rookie were the only survivors in this timeline, and not even Alpha Team’s Carolina was feeling quite up to taking on this world’s Carolina when there was an easier route, aka “press-ganging the rookie for help that they totally _do not need_ ” (in South’s words).

To everyone’s surprise, Wash’s reaction to the sudden appearance of his dead team is… underwhelming. He’s obviously heard them approach, but doesn’t even look up from his book until York blatantly demands his attention. At which point, he grimaces and sends an annoyed look to the glass of iced something sitting beside him. He sniffs it suspiciously, glances at them again, then shrugs and takes another long sip. The Could Not Give a Damn is far scarier, in its way, than the expected anger or fear, and freezes the explanation in York’s mouth.

In the end, Wash breaks the silence. “-Sup? Friends… and South?”

South looks ready to tear the rookie limb from limb, survivor of the Great War or no, but instead of his usual reaction to her threatening a beat-down, he just frowns at her. Glass still in hand, he lazily points one finger at her, and just about _rolls his eyes_.

“Hey, _you_ shot _me_ in the back. While I was laying down cover fire so _you_ could escape! I’m _totally_ allowed to hold a grudge!” York has the oddest feeling that Wash is now sticking his tongue out at her behind his helmet. Also, _what_?!?

Far from actually holding a grudge, though, Wash seems almost amused. The silence has been broken, and now he feels like he’s actually grinning at them all. “I _did_ shoot you in the face and blow up your body when I caught back up to you, though, so I guess I don’t mind if you hold a grudge right back at me. - We can totally be Grudge Buddies! Gruddies, I think that’s what Grif would call it? I’ll have to ask him later.”

Oookay. York is _so confused_ , and he didn’t actually think it was possible to _be_ more confused. This is the weirdest reaction. Ever. Of _all time_. As their Wash is currently sputtering about on their own private channel. York makes a mental note to _shake_ answers out of their AI, and get Connie to do her own hacking before they leave if that fails. Temporal paradoxes be damned, _now he has to know what happened_.

Apparently the shift in his posture alerts Sigma that York might be planning something sneaky, because he suddenly appears over Maine’s shoulder in all his fiery asshole glory, and that’s the moment when all hell actually breaks loose.

It’s almost a relief to finally get a _normal_ reaction to “hey, we’re your dead best friends, or maybe enemies in their armor,” but then Wash is trying to do _something_ to Sigma and Maine and _holy cow_ he’s fast. And good with those knives – York can feel Connie squeeing with pride at her protégé, even as she disarms the fifth knife and _where are they all even_ coming _from now_. Oh, Wash pickpocketed that last one from _him_ , and York now joins in the pride parade, in between stealing it back and trying to grab the force of nature that has apparently become the guy who was once voted Most Likely to Secretly be Project Freelancer’s Pet Cat.

In the end, it takes all of them – Carolina finally stepping in when it turns out that Wash totally knows the moves of everyone else in the squad and can play them off each other like nobody’s business in his obsession with getting to Sigma. The AI squeaks when he gets close and logs back off, and they finally get Wash pinned, though it takes a few more minutes for him to realize that he’s stuck. He’s still struggling weakly, but with Sigma gone he seems more bemused than anything else.

York is about to start asking, because he doesn’t feel he can _take_ any more Confused in his life right now, when the sand a bare millimeter from his armor explodes, showering him with _more_ _sand_ and _thank you, Wash, this is going to be_ fun _to explain to Command_. The techies just might riot (again). The explosions were from a spray of bullets, though, so it looks like Other Wash’s Carolina has found them. _Joy_.

(He’s actually surprised to find his heart really is beating a little faster – knowing she’ll make it to the end of the war if they do nothing differently had been one thing, but seeing her alive – and at least reliably _pissed_ at them – sends a wave of utter relief into every part of his being. She’s going to survive this, and his counterpart must have done _something_ right after all).

Of course, that’s when Wash opens his mouth again. Some things really have stayed the same, and York can feel the warmth spreading in his bones where the cold of Freelancer Destroyed and _TPK_ had chilled him.

“-Lina?” Yeah, York really wishes he thought to bring the catnip toys on this mission, that plaintive mew is something Wash will apparently never live down, no matter how terrifying he gets in the interim. “Lina. I think Grif spiked my drink with something again, and now _I’m losing a fight with my hallucinations_.” The Wet Cat indignation is a _tangible thing_ , and York lets go of Wash to collapse on the ground, holding his stomach as he laughs in relief.


End file.
